


The Past Leaves Scars

by LibraryMage



Series: Break Your Chains [4]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Character, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Child Abuse, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:45:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11654406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Both of Ezra's masters open up parts of their past to him.





	The Past Leaves Scars

**Author's Note:**

> warning for: discussions of past (canonical) character deaths, references to past child abuse, a person accidentally hurting someone while dissociating, abuse victim thinking they deserve abuse

There was a storm inside Ezra’s head.  He tried to focus, to clear away the emotions that swirled around and crashed together in his mind, but he just couldn’t do it.  He would have brief moments of quiet that were immediately cut off as the storm started up again, which only made him more and more frustrated.

In the six months he’d been here, meditation had never been easy for him.  Every time he was alone with his thoughts, he would get lost in this same storm.  Maul would tell him to focus on his anger, let it give him strength, but he couldn’t even do that.  And today was harder than most, for no reason at all.

Ezra fought to hold back the storm and stay in control of the heavy sorrow that was trying to drag him down.  He didn’t even realize Maul was speaking to him until he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back to reality.

“Ezra,” he was saying as the boy was snapped out of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Ezra said.  “I didn’t -- I couldn’t --”  But Ezra wasn’t sure how to explain what was happening inside his head.

“What is it?” he asked.

Ezra knew exactly what the answer to that question was, but he didn’t want to say it.  Maul always told him his emotions, his anger, gave him strength, but this was different.  These feelings made Ezra feel weak, and he hated it.  He knew his master could sense that weakness, and he hated that even more.  Looking weak in his own eyes was one thing.  Looking weak to his master was another.  Still, he couldn’t lie.  Maul would see right through it.

“It’s my parents,” Ezra said quietly, trying to keep a slight tremor out of his voice.  “I -- I just miss them.  It’s worse today than it usually is.”

Ezra felt his master’s emotions shifting.  A familiar glimmer of fondness that he rarely let rise to the surface.  A deep, powerful sorrow, like a heavy weight in his chest.  Deep, biting regret.  A mix of feelings Ezra had sometimes picked up on in brief flashes, only for them to be snuffed out before he could really make sense of them.  But this time was different.  This time Maul made no effort to lock the feelings away, hiding them from Ezra.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Ezra,” he said.

Ezra waited for what he knew Maul would say next, that everything he’d been through only made him stronger, that one day he’d have his revenge and get justice for his parents.

But he didn’t say it.

Instead, Ezra just felt that sorrow and regret surging up, growing stronger.  Ezra had always had a gift for sensing the emotions of others, and Maul had told him his ability was unusually strong, even for a Force sensitive, and though they never spoke about it, Ezra knew his master went to great lengths to keep his feelings hidden.  Or he usually did.  But now, Ezra could feel all of it, a tendril of uncertainty and hesitation twisting around and threading through it.

“I was there when my mother died,” Maul said.  “And my brother.  I know how hard it can be.”

Ezra looked up, not just surprised that his master had brought up his past, but also that he’d mentioned a mother and a brother.  He rarely talked about his life before they’d met, and when he did, he’d never talked about a family.

“What happened to them?” Ezra asked, not sure if the question was pushing too far.

“They were killed,” Maul told him, “by my former master.”

Ezra hesitated, unsure if he should say he was sorry for what had happened.  He was, but he knew if he hated feeling this weak, his master probably hated it even more and wouldn't want that weakness thrown in his face by Ezra feeling sorry for him.  But he didn’t have to say anything.  He could feel a warm, affectionate sensation, like a comforting touch through the Force.  He knew.

“Does it ever get easier?” Ezra asked.  In the two years since he’d lost his parents, the pain had never eased and he was beginning to wonder if it ever would.

“It doesn’t,” Maul said.  Ezra’s shoulders slumped.  For a moment, he felt once again like he was being dragged down by something.

“I’m sorry, Ezra,” Maul said.  And he was.  As strong as Ezra’s pain made him, there were rare moments when Maul truly wished his apprentice could be free of it.  Every time he felt that way, he would push those feelings down, grinding them into dust.  He knew it was weakness on his part and he knew it wouldn’t do Ezra any favors.

“Thanks for not lying to me,” Ezra said, though he couldn’t quite bring the sentiment behind the words into his voice.  A small spark of anger ignited in his chest.  This sorrow, this childish homesickness, this _weakness_ was never going to go away.  He hated it.  He hated himself for feeling this way, he hated the Empire for killing his parents and doing this to him, and even though he was thankful that his master had told him the truth, Ezra hated him for it, too.

"That's it," Maul said.  Ezra was barely aware of his voice.  " _That_ is what you need."

* * *

 

It had started off as a normal day, a normal op.  Ezra even would have called it an easy op if it weren’t for the fact that if he had, Hera would say there was no such thing.  Most of the supplies they had stolen weren’t staying on the _Ghost_.  Hera would be handing them off to her contact, Fulcrum.  No one except Hera and Kanan knew when or where it would happen, and they were intentionally vague when Sabine pressed them for information.

As the members of the crew dispersed from where they were gathered in the cargo bay, Zeb walked past Ezra.

“Nice job on this one, kid,” he said, clapping him on the back of his neck as he walked by and giving it the smallest squeeze, almost like how Ezra had seen people pick up baby Loth-cats.  It was meant to be affectionate.  He _knew_ that.  So, as he watched Zeb walk away, why did he feel like something was tightening around his chest?  He shut his eyes, folding his arms over his chest like he was trying to hug himself, as his head spun.  He could still feel the ghost of a hand on his neck.  Not Zeb’s hand.  A cold, calloused hand without even a shred of care in its touch.

“Ezra?”  A voice tried to push through the fog in his head and he pushed it back, trying to lock it out of his mind.  It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place who it was.  As the tightness in his chest grew, he felt something touch his arm, setting off an explosion in his head as icy, dark fear shot through him.

“No!” he shouted.  He felt something burst forward from somewhere deep inside his chest.  There was a dull crash that somehow sounded close and far away.

As Ezra was snapped back to his senses by the sound, he saw Kanan pinned to the wall, fighting against an unseen grip holding him there.  Ezra stared for a second before realizing _he_ was the one doing it.  He released his hold on Kanan, a wave of horror settling over him as he realized what he’d done.

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said, his voice shaking.  He had been on the verge of panic a moment ago, but that was nothing compared to the sheer terror coursing through him now, ripping him apart.  His heart was hammering, jumping up into his throat. He couldn’t breathe and his skin burned even as his insides felt like they were turning to ice.  He backed up until he found himself against the wall.  He wanted to run, but he felt like his feet were weighted down.  He’d just used the Force against Kanan.  He’d just attacked his master.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice cracking.  His gaze was fixed on the floor.  He couldn’t look at Kanan.  He couldn’t.  He heard Kanan take a cautious step toward him and shrank back against the wall.

“Please,” he said.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Ezra, it’s okay,” Kanan said.  “I’m okay.”

In spite of Kanan’s calm tone, Ezra flinched back.  He’d attacked Kanan and now…he didn’t know what was going to happen.  Kanan’s anger was still a terrifying unknown thing to him.  But he knew whatever Kanan was about to do to him, he’d earned it.

“Ezra, can you look at me?” Kanan asked.  Ezra didn’t move.

“Can you try?” Kanan asked.  Slowly, Ezra looked up at him.  Kanan could see the fear etched on his face.

“I’m okay,” Kanan said.  “You can see that, right?”

Ezra nodded slowly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Kanan said.  “I promise.”

“Why not?” he found himself asking as he looked down again, only marginally aware that he was even speaking.  On the edge of his vision, he saw Kanan tense up, his shoulders rising like _he_ was the one expecting a blow.

“Because…” Kanan stopped, struggling to find the words.  It was such a basic concept that he had no idea how to explain it.  “Because I’m not,” he finally said.  “Because that’s…it’s wrong.  You know that, right?”

“I attacked you,” Ezra said.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” Kanan said.  “Even if you did, that wouldn’t make it okay for me to hurt you.  You’re just a kid.”

That meant nothing to Ezra.  It had never mattered before, so why should it matter now?  The feeling of something constricting around Ezra’s throat seemed to grow tighter.  He didn’t understand.  He knew, somewhere, in the back of his mind, that Kanan had promised before never to hurt him, but that didn’t apply here, did it?  It shouldn’t.  Kanan had to have meant he wouldn’t hurt Ezra without a reason, and Ezra had just given him a damn good reason.

Ezra gasped for air and held his breath, trying to calm himself down.  Kanan still hadn’t moved from where he’d stopped in his tracks, and as hard as it was, Ezra desperately wanted to believe him.

“I don’t know why this is happening,” he said.

“I do,” Kanan told him.  “It’s normal.  When you go through something like what Maul did to you, sometimes things like this happen.”

“I know,” Ezra said.  “I know.  This kind of thing --” he gestured to his chest, trying to indicate how he felt like he was being crushed, “it’s happened before, but it’s always been about my parents or --” he stopped himself.  There were things that he’d witnessed during his two years on his own that he was _not_ ready to tell Kanan about.  “It’s just never been about my master.”

Ezra froze up before slamming the heel of his hand against his forehead.  Kanan started toward him then stopped when he realized Ezra wasn’t about to keep hurting himself.

“Why do I keep calling him that?” Ezra muttered, more to himself than to Kanan.

“It’s okay,” Kanan told him.

“None of this is okay,” Ezra said, the words tasting bitter in his throat.

“I know,” Kanan said.  “Come here.”  He took another step toward Ezra and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder.  Ezra almost flinched away, not out of fear this time, but out of guilt.  He could sense how cautious Kanan was being, trying not to set him off or scare him, and he hated it.  It made him feel small and weak and… _fragile_.

Kanan guided Ezra away from the wall and got him to sit down.  Ezra leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees, his breath still coming in short bursts.

“I’m sorry, Kanan,” he said as the other Jedi sat down beside him.

“Alright,” Kanan said, “you’ve apologized more than enough for one accident.”  He tried to make it sound like a joke, not wanting Ezra to think Kanan was scolding him for apologizing.

“But it wasn’t an accident,” Ezra said.  “Not really.”

“I know,” Kanan said.  “I meant -- you just weren’t completely there.  It’s okay, Ezra.  Really.”

“No, it’s not,” Ezra said.  “What if I’d hurt you?  Or what if it hadn’t been you?  What if it had been someone else, someone who couldn’t defend themselves if they had to?”

“Hey,” Kanan said, gently putting a hand on Ezra’s knee, “it wasn’t.”

“But it could have been,” Ezra said.

“You’re right,” Kanan relented.  As much as he wanted to comfort Ezra and tell him it was okay and not to think about what-ifs, he knew the kid was right.  “It could have been someone else, and you’re right to worry about that.  But this time, it _was_ me, and I’m okay.”

Ezra looked up at Kanan, studying him, as if he was checking to make sure he _really_ wasn’t hurt.

“I know this isn’t easy,” Kanan said.  “And I know it’s scary, thinking you might hurt someone, or thinking you might get hurt if you lash out.  But I can help you if you want me to.”

“This happens to you, too, doesn’t it?” Ezra asked.  Kanan nodded.

“It does,” he said.  “I haven’t hurt anyone like that in years, but I used to, sometimes.”  He bit back the shame that rose like bile in his throat as he remembered the reckless, almost uncaring person he’d become as he’d spent years trying to bury the Jedi he used to be.

“Like I told you before,” he said, “everyone on this ship has their scars.”

“What happened to you?” Ezra asked, the question slipping out before he could hold it back.

Kanan was silent for long time.  Long enough that Ezra wondered if asking had been a mistake.

“Do you know anything about the Jedi purge?” Kanan asked, his voice distant and hollow, a hard edge to his words, like a dull knife.

“Not much,” Ezra said.  “Just that it happened and most of the Jedi were killed.”

“The Jedi were hunted down because the Empire accused us of treason,” Kanan said.  “My master was killed as soon as the order went out.  Clones we fought beside, men who were our _friends_ gunned her down without a second thought.  She told me to run, but I looked back.  I saw her die.”

Kanan stared into the air in front of him, not blinking.  He barely seemed to be there.  The look in his eyes was somewhere far away.  Ezra froze up, every muscle in his body going tense.  It wasn’t fear this time, at least, it wasn’t his.  He could feel what was happening in Kanan’s head.  Not just the anger and the bitter sting of betrayal of Kanan _now_ , but a child’s confusion and terror and the same soul-rending pain Ezra had felt watching his parents be dragged away by stormtroopers.

“I didn’t really understand what was happening,” Kanan said.  “I don’t think she did, either.  It all happened so fast we didn’t have time to think about it.  She just had to fight and I just had to run.”

Kanan shook his head, seeming to snap himself back to the present.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I shouldn’t -- I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“I asked,” Ezra pointed out.

Kanan reached out, putting a hand on Ezra’s arm and giving it a short squeeze, a silent expression of emotions Ezra didn’t know how to define.

“You never mentioned your parents before,” Kanan said.  Ezra’s heart skipped a beat as he realized that in his panic, he must have said something about them without meaning to.  “I guess I didn’t realize you had parents,” Kanan continued.

Ezra nodded.  “They died,” he said quietly.  He didn’t particularly want to share this with Kanan.  He wasn’t ready.  After he’d opened up that part of his life so readily to Maul and had it used against him, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to tell Kanan.  But after what Kanan had just told him, he felt like he had to share _something._

“You don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to,” Kanan said, a gentle nudge in his voice.

“I just don’t think I’m ready,” Ezra said.

“I know the feeling.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment.  Kanan just waited.  He could feel the thoughts spinning around in Ezra’s head and knew he wanted to say something.

“Once, I asked Maul if it ever gets easier,” Ezra said.

“What did he tell you?” Kanan asked.

“That it doesn’t.”  Ezra looked down again, suddenly uncomfortable, though he didn’t understand why.  “Was he right?” he asked.

“I’m not sure how to answer that, Ezra,” Kanan said.  He thought for a moment, carefully searching for the words he wanted to say.  “I don’t think it gets _easy_ , but having people around who care about you and understand what you’re going through, it can lighten the load a little bit.”

Ezra considered Kanan’s words.  Almost automatically, he found himself thinking back to those few moments he remembered as a child where he _knew_ in the deepest part of his heart that Maul understood his pain at least a little.  He’d said it never got easier, but in those moments, just knowing there was someone who understood, it had felt like it did, at least for a while.

He tried not to think about the fact that Kanan had used the word “care.”  That led him to questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

“I think I understand,” he said, his voice hesitant.  He wasn’t sure if he really did understand or not, but maybe one day he would.


End file.
